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shouted back to the girls that they were all a lot of
'bad puppies5. And our fathers got stern at this,
and they told us if we did not stop using that
language toward our sisters they would leave us
all behind, and we would not see the hunt.

The girls are right/ they said, 'you are a bunch
of "little old women5\ else you would have had
those "stranger ponies" broken in while we were
resting on the river/

This quieted us; for we never could be so dis-
courteous as to say anything back to our fathers,
So we got mad then—and rode the ponies.

When we got our ponies quieted down, we all
gathered in a little group and tied our hair under
our chins and looked angrily over at the girls with
their mothers. We looked angry, but we could
hardly keep from laughing when we chanced to
glance at one another; for inside us our stomachs
were still jumping with laughter at the funny
pranks our bad ponies had played on some of us,
Young Eagle Talker,, sitting over there so stolidly
on a mean little flint-eye, had come down the
wrong way—in front of his pony on his all-fours
—and his mischievous mount had taken a bite at
him, relieving him entirely of his little breech-
cloth, which he was now stolidly trying to adjust
without attracting the attention of those bad little
girls. Many of us were trying to conceal little
trickles of blood from scratches and bruises. My